


at your leisure

by treescape



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Cock Warming, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28651512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treescape/pseuds/treescape
Summary: “I can feel how much you want to come,” Obi-Wan murmured soothingly. “Would you like that? To come right now so that you can sit here properly as long as I’d like?”Or, Obi-Wan and Anakin relax, and Obi-Wan helps Anakin be good for him.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 17
Kudos: 312





	at your leisure

**Author's Note:**

> This is expanded from a snippet I posted in discord and on [tumblr](https://treescape.tumblr.com/post/637080425512189953/leisure) and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27783091/chapters/68726793#workskin). Thank you to everyone who sent me such lovely comments and feedback on it ❤️
> 
> Set sometime during the Clone Wars.

“Oh, darling,” Obi-Wan murmured, his voice so relaxed that it sounded almost strange to Anakin’s ears. Anakin didn’t think he’d heard Obi-Wan so soft and unwound since—well, since the last time they’d done this, far too many weeks ago in the eternity of this war. “Are you bored already?”

Anakin groaned and buried his face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck, grounding himself in Obi-Wan’s scent and the brush of bare, tender skin against his forehead, his cheeks, his mouth. He struggled for a moment to keep his hips still, the way he’d been instructed to do, and then gave up and let them nudge forward again. The fabric of the couch was rough against his knees where he knelt up over Obi-Wan’s lap, but somehow, that only ratcheted his arousal higher. “Bored isn’t what I’d call it,” he panted, shaping the words against Obi-Wan’s collarbone, “and you know it.”

Obi-Wan made a pleased sound, somewhere between a laugh and a low hum, as he smoothed one hand down Anakin’s naked back. He was always doing that—always taking enjoyment in Anakin’s eagerness and pleasure, even when Anakin wasn’t exactly doing what he was _supposed_ to be doing. It made Anakin want to be so _good_ , but _kriff_ , the way Obi-Wan felt inside him—

That hand eased down the curve of his spine, scattering Anakin’s thoughts for a long moment, until Obi-Wan’s fingers could rub against the place where his cock held Anakin open and stretched around him. “Perhaps I can help you take the edge off,” Obi-Wan mused, and then he was shifting just enough that his cock was snugged right up against Anakin’s prostate, which was— _oh_ , which was just what Anakin had been trying to achieve, really, but perhaps he hadn’t quite thought this through. If the agony of stillness had been impossible to sit through before, then _now_ it was simply unbearable.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” he said desperately, hips jerking forward again, chasing more pressure, more Obi-Wan, just _more_.

“I can feel how much you want to come,” Obi-Wan murmured soothingly. “Would you like that? To come right now so that you can sit here properly as long as I’d like?”

Just the thought of it was enough to make Anakin want to beg—to be allowed to come now, to feel Obi-Wan’s satisfaction as Anakin shattered apart around him and then to sit, languid and wrung out, on Obi-Wan’s cock until Obi-Wan decided it was time to really and truly fuck him. “ _Yes_.”

Obi-Wan made a speculative sound. “Then go on.”

Anakin squeezed his eyes closed for a moment and then tilted his head forward enough that he could look down at where his own cock strained between them, the head flushed and wet. “Can I use my hand?” he asked hoarsely.

“Do you need to?”

Anakin thought about it—thought about the fullness of Obi-Wan’s cock within him, the delicious stretch on his rim and the unrelenting pressure against that spot inside. It was just enough, he knew, to keep him on edge for all eternity, frantic and trembling. It was enough that Anakin couldn’t seem to shape the words in his throat, couldn’t call them forth from the torture of desire.

Obi-Wan appeared to understand even without words, as he so often did. “What if I do this?” he asked, taking hold of Anakin’s hips with both hands before grinding up again, and Anakin’s fingers scrabbled at his shoulders, desperate for any purchase he could gain against the excruciating pleasure as Obi-Wan’s cock dragged over his prostate. It was just enough friction to propel a shower of stars within the confines of his veins.

“ _No_ ,” Anakin moaned, the word pulled out of him by the curl of heat down his spine. “I don’t, I don’t need to.”

“Then,” Obi-Wan said, “I think not.” He pressed one hand firmly to the small of Anakin’s back, fingers spread wide and palm shaping itself to the contours of Anakin’s body. The pressure caused only the slightest shift in the position of Anakin’s hips, but it was enough to draw another whimper from his throat. “I just need one thing from you, darling. I need you to warn me before you’re about to come. Can you do that for me?”

Anakin nodded his head frantically against Obi-Wan’s neck, breathing choked noises into Obi-Wan’s skin. His eyes fluttered closed on another moan as Obi-Wan continued to rock up into him, never really withdrawing but managing a steady friction nonetheless, a building and lessening of pressure designed to drive him wild. He forced his eyes open again to watch another sticky bead of precome shine at his slit.

It happened swiftly. He managed to gasp out a warning just in time, tides of pleasure cresting in his blood as his body bore down into it. Obi-Wan released his hip and cupped a hand around the head of Anakin’s cock, not close enough to touch—not really, not _quite_ —so he could catch the mess of Anakin’s come against his palm.

“There we go,” Obi-Wan said once he had wiped his hand on a small towel next to him and gently cleaned Anakin’s softening cock, voice noticeably satisfied even through the haze of Anakin’s euphoria. Both hands closed around Anakin’s hips again as he rocked up a couple more times, and Anakin’s breath hitched at the sweet oversensitivity of Obi-Wan’s movement and satisfaction alike. Finally, Obi-Wan settled deep and still. “How is that?”

In response, Anakin let his body sag against Obi-Wan’s, more loose and relaxed than it had been in weeks, the tension and rigidity of war gone against the shelter of Obi-Wan’s frame. Without the tackiness of drying come between them, there was only the comfort of closeness and warmth. “Good,” Anakin said, his voice windingly lazily through his own consciousness. It was an understatement of vastest magnitude, but he trusted Obi-Wan to be able to read the layers beneath. Even the light burn he was beginning to feel from the spread of his thighs felt good, though he knew it would soon sharpen into a more noticeable ache as the evening wore on.

He hoped it would last for days, an inscription of Obi-Wan’s body upon his. They were on Coruscant for almost a week; he didn’t have to worry about the lingering strain in the field.

“Good,” Obi-Wan said, and if it was a mirror of Anakin’s contentment, it was his own, too. Anakin could feel it coming off of him in waves. “Do you have any idea how you feel tightening around me like that? It is the most exquisite pleasure, dear one.” The words made Anakin instinctively clench down around Obi-Wan’s length again, sending another thrill of oversensitivity through him, and Obi-Wan let out a pleased sigh, his thumbs rubbing tight, soothing circles into Anakin’s skin. “Would you like me to tell you what I’d like to do for the rest of the evening?” Obi-Wan asked. “Or would you prefer I tell you later?”

“Tell me now,” Anakin said without hesitation. The languor of post-orgasm would hold him for some time, mollifying his body and his mind, but he wanted to hear Obi-Wan’s voice, wanted to hear Obi-Wan’s words braid images of the two of them, bodies tangled together as they were meant to be.

Obi-Wan made a soft sound of assent and lifted one hand from Anakin’s hip to weave into the curls of his his hair, sweeping lines of fire up the nape of his neck. For a moment, Anakin couldn’t decide whether to lean into that hand or to lean closer into the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck, craving both points of contact as thoroughly as possible. In the end, he didn’t have to make a choice at all; Obi-Wan’s fingers pressed more firmly, dragging over his scalp with a surety that filled Anakin’s thoughts with peace. “Once you’re hard again, I plan to fuck you.”

The words were simple and matter-of-fact, but perhaps that was what made Anakin moan his approval and shape his lips into a series of messy kisses against Obi-Wan’s skin. They were a promise that simmered in his stomach, there but not urgent. Not yet.

For minutes or hours, Anakin drifted on that current of warmth, anchored by Obi-Wan’s body. Time had little meaning to him; only the feel of surrounding and being surrounded seemed to matter. Obi-Wan’s hand remained securely in his hair, and his other occasionally tugged at one of Anakin’s nipples, or ran gently down his side, or brushed over his balls. It wasn’t particularly meant to arouse, Anakin knew—Obi-Wan was simply providing points of contact—but it was enough to eventually have his cock thickening again, hips beginning to twitch forward once more with a desperate need for movement. It made his thighs tremble, muscles pulled tight, and flares of soreness coiled through his nerves.

The smile was practically audible in Obi-Wan’s voice when he spoke. “I believe I promised I would fuck you,” he said, and Anakin caught his breath as he waited, strung taught with arousal. Obi-Wan’s hands ran up and then back down Anakin’s straining thighs, somehow smoothing the burn and stoking it all at once. “Would you like me to fuck you like this, or would you prefer that we move?”

Obi-Wan would do whatever he asked; Anakin knew it in his bones, and in his heart, and from experience. If he asked Obi-Wan to tip them over on the couch, to press Anakin back against the giving lines of its surface and fuck him that way, he would. If he asked Obi-Wan to take him to the soft expanse of their bed and push him to his hands and knees, he would.

But Anakin didn’t want to move. He wanted to be right where he was, his body spread over and around Obi-Wan’s, the reminder of it unmistakeable in his shaking thighs. “Like this,” he implored.

Obi-Wan’s hands stilled halfway up his thighs, bracing him. “Can you lift up, dear one?”

He moved shakily, muscles unused to it after kneeling for so long, but the long slide of Obi-Wan’s cock as he strained to rise was enough to have him gasping his gratification. 

“Wonderful,” Obi-Wan said, and a thrill of delight unwound in Anakin’s gut at the hint of gravel in those syllables. He hovered for a moment, uncertain, the head of Obi-Wan’s cock caught just within his body, but then Obi-Wan’s hands were sliding up to grip his hips and pulling him down firmly.

Anakin groaned, every cell of his body lighting up as Obi-Wan slid back in as deep as he possibly could. “Again, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured encouragingly, and this time, once Anakin had raised himself high enough, he was able to add his own momentum to the down stroke. “ _Oh_ , you’re doing wonderfully, darling.” On the next stroke, Obi-Wan thrust up even as he helped Anakin slam back down, and Anakin sobbed out in response. “You’re not bored now, are you?”

“I was never bored,” Anakin protested, gasping the words out around the blinding pleasure of Obi-Wan’s body filling his. “I could never be bored trying to be good for you.”

“ _Force_ , Anakin,” Obi-Wan ground out, voice strained. His fingers tightened and his thrusts continued, unrelenting and so good that Anakin could hardly process them. “Let me feel you, dear one. Let me feel you one more time, right now.”

Anakin was already careening towards the edge of orgasm for the second time that evening; it wouldn’t take much. He frantically reached to fist his fingers around his own cock, stroking tight and relentless from base to tip, but Obi-Wan knocked his hand away and replaced it immediately with his own. This time, when Anakin came, Obi-Wan let it spill messily between his own fingers, smoothing it back down Anakin’s cock as he eased Anakin all the way through.

When Anakin was done, body gone limp again, Obi-Wan reached to grasp his hip once more, smearing come against his skin as he fucked up again, and then again, and finally came with a groan. Anakin did his best to keep moving into Obi-Wan's thrusts, the stutter of his hips shaky, until they both came to a panting rest.

For a time, Anakin simply basked in the leisure and indulgence radiating from Obi-Wan’s mind, things they both so rarely got to feel these days. But finally, when Obi-Wan’s soft cock had slipped out of him and he was able to string more than a few syllables together, he tested his voice.

“I think I’m going to need help getting up.”

Obi-Wan laughed breathlessly. “I’ll always help you, darling.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [treescape](https://treescape.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you ever want to come say hi!


End file.
